


it's a fruit based love

by csmithman



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fruit, M/M, gotta love red, minor appearances by hunk adam and shiro, red the hamster - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 17:11:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19024321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csmithman/pseuds/csmithman
Summary: Three times Lance brings Keith fruit.Based on the "You're Lucky That's What I Like" series by Zenstrike, and does require some knowledge of that AU.





	it's a fruit based love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zenstrike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenstrike/gifts).
  * Inspired by [you deserve it all and i’m gonna give it to you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16025537) by [zenstrike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenstrike/pseuds/zenstrike). 



> A long time ago, a very talented author wrote a story about Lance loving strawberries. A commenter mentioned her own love of strawberries. This led to a beautiful friendship, and a *lot* of fruit discourse.
> 
> Zen, I've been trying to write this fic for over six months and I finally sat down and made myself. Sorry it's like a month late for your birthday, but this was surprisingly hard to write! Anyways, I love you more than I love strawberries and I hope you like this.
> 
> Title is from Watermelon by Tom Rosenthal.

Lance stared at the bowl of strawberries on his roommate’s desk.

That had been… weird.

Lance was tired. He was tired of early morning classes and labs that went way too late. He was tired of trying not to panic when his academic advisor asked him about four year plans and prerequisites and gen eds. He was tired of cafeteria foods and missing his family.

And he was really tired of living at odds with his grumpy roommate, who’d sabotaged Lance’s _very expensive thank you very much_ fancy shampoo and now Lance was rocking blue hair. Hunk laughed every time he saw Lance and Lance had to avoid all the red clothes in his wardrobe for fear of clashing.

To be fair, it had been a pretty good prank. And Lance _did_ look good with blue hair. And he was _definitely_ going to get back at Keith. Just not when he was this tired. He needed to be able to think about anything other than chemical formulas. Soon.

So it was really weird to have a somewhat civil conversation with Keith, and was made even weirder by how _weird_ Keith was being while they talked.

As Lance watched his roommate stomp down the hallway, he pondered just what was going on with Keith.

But as he stared at the delicious, gleaming red strawberries in the bowl on Keith’s desk, and felt his tiredness lift just a smidge, he decided to worry about it later.

He took the bowl out into the lounge and sat with Hunk, who was working on some homework.

“You bought _more_ strawberries?” Hunk grumbled. “We talked about this. Smarter spending, remember?”

Lance popped another strawberry in his mouth and shrugged.

“Didn’t buy them.”

“Lance did you – did you _steal strawberries_?”

“What? No,” Lance sputtered. “Keith bought them.”

“Keith.”

“Yeah.”

“Your roommate Keith.”

“Uh huh.”

“The guy who dyed your hair blue.”

“That’s him.”

“Keith bought _you_ strawberries?”

Lance shook his head, strawberries staining his lips red.

“He bought them on an impulse, apparently, even though he doesn’t like strawberries. Guess _he’s_ the one who deserves your lecture on _smart spending_.”

“Lance, that doesn’t make any sense. Strawberries aren’t cheap, you know that, that’s why I lectured you in the first place _don’t complain it’s for your own good_. Do – do you think Keith was trying to be nice?”

Lance paused, strawberry halfway to his mouth.

“That – why would he be nice?”

“I dunno. Maybe he felt bad about your hair? Maybe he’s a nice person?”

“Keith? A _nice person_?” Despite his skepticism, though, Lance thought about it. Ever since the whole shampoo fiasco, Keith had been pretty quiet. Maybe Keith was just as tired of their feud as Lance was. Maybe they could salvage this whole living situation until the end of the year when they could go their separate ways.

“Anything’s possible,” Hunk cut into Lance’s thoughts.

Lance shrugged again, squirming into a comfortable position on the couch next to Hunk. He ate another strawberry, delighting in its fresh taste.

“You shouldn’t eat that many strawberries,” Hunk cautioned. “You’ll get sick.”

“But they’re so good,” Lance muttered as he ate yet another strawberry.

He thought about Keith buying strawberries for him. Some sort of apology? An olive branch, of sorts?

Well, two can play that game.

Lance set out to do something nice for Keith in return for the strawberries. He determined that it would be best to respond in kind, and buy Keith something he liked to eat.

But that was easier said than done. All Lance knew was that Keith _didn’t_ like strawberries (and honestly, who doesn’t like strawberries? what kind of monster was Lance living with?). But that didn’t help him decide what to buy as a peace offering in return.

What did Keith like to eat?

So Lance started watching Keith, surreptitiously. He watched Keith in the cafeteria, usually eating by himself. He watched Keith in the lounge, working quietly on whatever it was he did. And he tried really hard to figure out what he could get Keith. But as far as Lance could tell, Keith subsided entirely on coffee ( _way_ too much coffee) and sugary candy. In the cafeteria, Keith seemed to grab whatever was easiest.

“He’s going to get scurvy,” Lance muttered to Hunk one night, seeing Keith eat dinner once again without a single vegetable or fruit to be seen.

“So get him some fruit,” Hunk scowled, not wanting his meal to be disturbed with yet another “what is Keith eating tonight” rant from Lance.

“But what fruit?”

Hunk sighed.

Eventually, Lance’s observations paid off. One day, he saw Keith grab an apple from the fruit stand downstairs. To be fair, it could have been simply because it was early autumn and apples were in season, so they were abundant and cheap. But whatever the reason, Lance actually saw Keith eat an apple, so an apple it would be.

That night, Keith came in their room, tired and sweaty – he must have just come from practice. He dropped his gear and stumbled over to his bed, pausing on the way when he saw the shiny red apple sitting on his desk. Lance had bought the best looking apple he could find, bright red, no bruises, and the sight of it seemed to throw Keith for a loop. He made a confused noise and looked over at Lance, who was working on something on his side of the room.

“Thanks for the strawberries,” Lance said.

Keith tensed.

“They weren’t – I bought them on accident – you didn’t have to…” Keith stuttered out, blushing a little. ( _Blushing_?)

“I mean it,” Lance cuts in. “They were great. It was nice of you.”

Keith blushed deeper, looking anywhere but at Lance.

“Yeah, well… don’t mention it.”

* * *

Spring came slowly to campus. There was snow on the ground for months, a never-ending blanket of white. Lance spent many hours wrapped up in blankets with Keith in their apartment, bundled up against the cold. But finally – _finally_ – he thought spring might be coming. The sun was up longer, and the air had less of a bite. He saw hints of green peeking through the snow on campus.

But Lance knew spring was finally on its way one day at the grocery store, when he saw it – the first mangoes of the season.

He dragged Keith over to the produce section, exclaiming happily. Keith went along gamely, smiling just a little at Lance’s enthusiasm. He was well aware of Lance’s love for fruit, though he himself lived off of pure caffeine. So when Lance proudly held up a mango for Keith’s inspection, he hummed thoughtfully, playing along.

“Mangoes, Keith! The mangoes are here, it’s finally spring!”

Keith looked out the window, where there were snow flurries in the air, and back at Lance, a sardonic look on his face.

“Okay, yes, I know,” Lance retorted. “It’s never going to be anything but winter, we live in an arctic wasteland, everything is cold and white. But still! Spring! Mangoes!”

Lance happily grabbed a few mangoes and put them in their basket, ignoring Keith’s mutters about “why does fruit cost _so much_.” (To be fair, Keith was right. Fruit is expensive. But fruit makes Lance happy, and it’s good for them, so he buys it anyway). He moved about the produce section, seeing what else caught his eye, Keith trailing along the whole time. Lance grabbed some pineapple, a small carton of blueberries, before coming to a stop in front of the display of strawberries.

Keith sighed.

“Get the strawberries,” he urged Lance.

“They’re not on sale,” Lance argued, even as his eyes linger on the delicious fruit.

Keith nudged him with his elbow. He smiled at Lance – it’s soft. Fond.

“Get the strawberries,” he repeated, and he looked at Lance the way that Lance looked at the strawberries – as if there’s something magical about him, as if he can’t get enough.

Lance flushed. It didn’t seem to matter how long they’ve been together, Lance still couldn’t believe the way that Keith looked at him. He looked away before his face caught fire and flailed out, grabbing a package of strawberries.

“I’ll make you a smoothie,” he promised Keith as they headed out of the grocery store after paying for their items (a package of gummy bears in the basket, of course, but Lance pretended not to notice).

When they got home, Lance bustled around the kitchen, putting their food away and getting out the blender. Keith hopped up on the counter – Lance shot him a _look_ and muttered about sanitary cooking conditions but Keith just smiled at him and picked up a mango. Lance showed him how to chop the mango, avoiding the pit, laughing when the fruit stuck out like a hedgehog. He thought of Red.

“Hey, do me a favor,” he said as he chopped up the remaining fruit.

“Anything,” Keith responded earnestly, and Lance flushed again.

“Google to see if hamsters can have mangoes.”

Keith laughed a little at that, rolling his eyes but pulling out his phone all the same.

“A wide variety of fruit and vegetables are safe for your hamster to eat,” Keith announced, reading off his phone like a sports announcer, growing more animated as he read off the long list of foods. “These include: apples, bananas, blackberries, blueberries, broccoli, carrots, celery, cucumber, dates, figs, grapes, green beans, kiwi fruit, mango, melon, parsley, peach, pear, strawberries…”

Lance cut off the recitation, laughing.

“A smoothie for Red, too,” he proclaimed.

“Wait, hold on,” Keith interjected. “It doesn’t say pineapples. Let me google it. ‘Can hamsters eat pineapple? No, hamsters cannot eat pineapple because it is acidic and can cause stomach upset and sickness.’”

“Okay, so just some fruit salad for Red,” Lance said as he pulled out a tiny bowl and chopped up some mango chunks and strawberries for his hamster child.

“Wait, pineapples are acid?”

“Yeah, you know how it kind of burns when you eat them?”

Keith shook his head, looking concerned.

“Wait have you ever actually eaten pineapple?”

When Keith said no, Lance grumbled under his breath – _heathen_ – but shook his head fondly.

“You’re lucky I came into your life or you’d be dying of scurvy by now. _Anyway_. Pineapples have this thing in them, bromelain. It dissolves protein, so it’s actually eating you while you eat it!”

Keith looked actively horrified by this knowledge, poking at a cube of pineapple next to him with terror, as if it would suddenly reach out and bite him. Lance laughed.

“Don’t worry, it’s delicious and you barely notice it, unless it’s unripe, then you can actually burn yourself,” Lance laughed at Keith’s continued horror. “You won’t notice it at all in a smoothie. You’ll be fine. _You’re_ not a hamster.”

Keith still looked unconvinced, but gamely took the cup Lance handed him a few minutes later. Lance popped a bendy straw in the cup, pointing it jauntily in Keith’s direction. Hesitantly – _warily_ – Keith took a tiny sip, then hummed in pleasure, taking another, larger sip.

“See, I knew you’d like it,” Lance proclaimed proudly. “It’s chock full of sugar.”

As Keith continued sipping his smoothie, Lance went and got Red out of the bedroom, bringing her into the kitchen. He plopped her down in front of the “fruit salad” and exclaimed in delight as she started nibbling the mango.

As he sat in the kitchen with two of his favorite people (yes Red is a people), all three of them enjoying fresh fruit and the promise of spring, Lance thought that this was, quite possibly, the perfect place to be.

* * *

 Keith’s brother and affer had come to visit, and Lance was doing his best not to panic. He’d met Shiro and Adam plenty of times, of course, but the desire to impress Keith’s family never really dissipated. But Keith was so happy to see his family that Lance would put up with anything, just to see Keith smile like that.

That being said, Lance was still uneasy sitting in the living room with Adam while Shiro and Keith washed dishes in the kitchen. Shiro had complimented the meal, and Lance had shamefully admitted that Hunk helped him cook. But before he could start feeling too bad, Adam and Keith had started teasing Shiro about his, apparently, utter inability to produce anything edible in the kitchen.

Keith was currently relating the tale of the time that Shiro had, apparently, mixed up paprika and chili powder when making Keith’s favorite treat, turning the Asian pears into a bitter mess.

“Wait—“ Lance said quietly, catching up. He turned to Adam. “There’s a fruit that Keith eats willingly?”

“Yeah, I know, he hates most fruits and vegetables,” Adam commiserated. “I have no clue how he grew that big. But he loves Asian pears. His dad used to make them for him when he was a kid, and he taught Shiro and me.”

“Make – what do you mean? How do you make them?”

Lance thought back on all the times that Keith had surprised him with a treat – strawberries, sometimes covered in chocolate, sometimes ready for shortcake, always red and delicious. He’d never really been able to reciprocate, since Keith didn’t seem to love anything the way Lance loved strawberries (but really, did anyone love anything like that?). Maybe this was his chance.

Adam seemed to catch on that this was important, and told Lance quietly so that Shiro and Keith – still bickering in the kitchen – couldn’t hear him.

It was simple, apparently. An Asian pear, cut in slices. Sprinkle some chili powder. Sprinkle some salt. It sounded appalling to Lance, but Adam explained that the chili powder and salt brought out the flavor in the pear, the sweet and spicy contrasting for a delicious, and refreshing, result.

Later that week, Lance took his chance to surprise Keith, for once. While Keith was at practice, he went to the organic grocer and bought the best pears he could find (one would be good, but why not buy two? or five?). When it came close to the time Keith would be getting home, he sliced up the pears – giving a piece to Red, of course – and sprinkled on the chili powder.

Keith stumbled in shortly after, tired but happy, as he always seemed to be after a good workout. He dropped his gear and ambled over to Lance, giving him a quick kiss. As he pulled away, Lance pushed the plate out in front of him, getting Keith’s attention.

“For me?”

“Your favorite,” Lance responded, hesitant, then starting to ramble when Keith stayed silent. “At least, according to Adam, he said that this was your favorite, I thought it’d be a nice treat—“

Before Lance could ramble his way into a full blown panic, he was cut off when Keith kissed him, more thoroughly than his hello kiss. Keith smiled, and Lance could feel it, and he started to think that maybe Adam was right after all.

A few minutes later, Keith sat next to Lance, his lips red and swollen and smiling. He grabbed a slice of pear and chewed thoughtfully. Lance waited eagerly for the verdict.

“It’s good,” Keith said as a beautiful smile bloomed on his face. “Maybe a little less salt next time, but this is great. It tastes like home.”

Lance grinned and bumped his shoulder against Keith.

“Thanks,” Keith said quietly. “This was a nice treat.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Lance replied.

They sat there quietly as Keith finished up his snack. It was peaceful. It was nice.

It was home.

Lance hummed contently and took a bite from the slice Keith held out for him.

“Well,” he said with a smile. “It’s good… but it’s no strawberry.”


End file.
